Starting All Over Again
by Rianne
Summary: The effects of Marjorie Quinn? Are the townsfolk of Colorado Springs really ready?This story takes place during the season 5 episode ‘Starting Over.’
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!

_Author's note!_ I hope you enjoy, I've wanted to play with the episode 'Starting Over' for quite a while, as I love the craziness that ensues from Marjorie's visit! So here goes nothing! Rx

Starting All Over Again.

By Rianne.

"Michaela?" The bed had been empty when he had reached out for her.

She hardly stirred at his voice, her head just barely tilting in his direction. The faint movement creating a ripple in her curtain of hair under the moonlight, which was the only thing to let him know she had heard him.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, as he heaved his body into a sitting position and waited. Taking in his wife's pensive posture as she lent her shoulder against the frame of the window, staring out into the darkness.

"Come back to bed?" he asked, "'S cold.' His voice was warm and compassionate.

But again she barely reacted, her only response a heavier sigh of breath as her gaze remained absorbed by the thousands of crystal stars in the clear blanketing sky.

The house was silent, almost too silent. Katie now down the hall in her own room.

"Michaela?" he tried again, twisting his body, so he could place his feet upon the chilled wooden floor, the blankets and sheets drawn around his waist to cover his modesty.

"Have I changed?" Out of the darkness her voice sounded different, eerie almost, lost. She had turned to face him, but now the darkness cloaked her expression and he could not see her lips move or read her features.

He reached out his hand, bringing it to rest upon the cool soft skin of her lower arm, sliding it along to capture her slim fingers within his own as he asked, "What makes ya say that?"

He heard her sigh again, knew from the movement of her sound that she was hiding her face from him. He lifted his free hand to guide her to the bed beside him. Gently and instinctively curling the blanket around her cool shoulders.

He waited. Knowing that inside her head the wheels were turning too fast for her to express herself clearly. Knowing that in moments of unrest like this she needed time, time to plan over the words in her mind, to consider each meaning and complicated layer of subtext. And so he waited, his fingers gently teasing over the top of her hand, in a way that he hoped brought some comfort.

And when she was finally ready to speak, her soft whispers filled the darkness, her familiar voice edged with a self-doubt he did not hear often from her.

"It was something Loren said." She began slowly, her free hand relaxing its bunching progress upon the blanket he had draped about her shoulders to fall into her lap and be captured by his larger, warmer one. Stilling her constant movement helped her focus her tired mind. She sighed again.

"He said that Marjorie was me," she paused, feeling confusion and an odd feeling of loss well in her chest, "before I got some sense…"

Sully chuckled softly. But he felt her tense against him.

Tightening his fingers around hers he lifted her hand and placed a warm kiss to her palm.

"You gots different priorities now. That's all." He said softly.

"I was so surprised to see her. One minute I was talking to Colleen about her boarding house and its rules and the Reverend and his fears and then the next there she was. Waving her picture on the cover of the Boston Herald proclaiming that she had been arrested!"

Michaela reached the end of the rambling sentence in a rush, having been unable to fully grasp her disbelief it had shown in her words and her tone had risen.

She had sounded so full of incredulous disapproval. Which echoed so hypercritically in her mind. Her sister arrested for attempting to gain votes for women. The Michaela Quinn she remembered would have cheered her on. Not immediately questioned why Marjorie had not made up with their overzealous mother.

"There was something Hank said to me, back before our wedding," she said softly hearing Sully huff out a breath.

"Now, don't be listenin to Hank, Michaela." He said rocking against her shoulder gently to tease her. But she carried on insistent.

"He said that Marjorie was always jealous of me. Said that she may have had all the boyfriends, but that I had the freedom."

Sully grew quiet beside her.

"I mean I didn't believe him, and yet he was right about her being sick."

She had forgotten that Sully knew nothing of the events of that day; yet his absence had been heavy on everyone's minds.

"Sick?" he questioned.

"Yes," Michaela whispered, "Her husband gave it to her." She continued in an even quieter voice hoping that Sully would catch her meaning. And he did.

He breathed out again, "And Hank knew?"

"He'd seen it in his girls." She replied. Her fingers had found themselves together again between his and she had unconsciously begun to twist them into knots. "He recognised the symptoms better than I did. Said I had been to close to see…" her voice trailed off into her thoughts once again.

"Why didn't ya tell me bout this?" Sully asked, fearing the answer.

"I couldn't find you."

Her words hung heavier in the air than any had between them for a long time.

He lifted his hand from her lap, cupping her cheek and tilting her face towards him so he could finally see her in the pale moonlight, see the tears of confusion glitter in her eyes, but not quite obscuring the flickering look of anxiety.

"I am so sorry." He whispered, his words so full of sincerity that the first tear broke free and trailed vibrantly down her cheek to trickle over his fingers. Then he was leaning in, and she gasped as he pressed a heated, but simple kiss to her lips before lifting away once more, brushing the glittering trail of her tear with the slightly rough pads of his fingertips.

"I know." She whispered her voice choked with emotion, with love, with exhaustion. Her fingers left their limp placement in her lap and drew him into her as she whispered, " I love you." Curling into his embrace to be instantly accepted as his arms encircled her easing her down back onto the bed with him.

He lifted one hand to manoeuvre the blankets back over their bodies before encircling her in his arms once again. He rocked her for a sweet eternity, feeling her relax against him, his hands rubbing soothingly over her back, hearing her shuddering emotion filled breathing calm and ease.

Yet still she could not sleep. Still the events of the day rumbled over and over in her mind. She could not decide which particular comment or happening had wounded her more, that she had been once considered as wild and as disruptive as she considered Marjorie to be, that she had agreed with Mrs. Morales on something, or what Marjorie had been encouraging Hank's girls to do?

"Do we know why she's here?" Sully asked, lifting the hair back from her face, knowing she was not yet sleeping.

"I got a letter from Mother." She replied. "She accused Marjorie of having an affair with a married man."

"Do you believe that?" he questioned softly, trying to help her through her thoughts by simply being there.

"No," she breathed softly. " I asked her, she said it was merely a platonic acquaintance, that he was helping her to write a speech. Sully, she said that she would never do that to a marriage. Not after what happened to hers, but what she said about…"

She lost her voice again to her overwhelming emotions, so he sank lower, down into the bed covers, bringing his face level with hers, so close that their noses bumped. But neither laughed, for it was not the time.

He waited again for her to gather her thoughts.

"She said that she believed that marriage was wrong, Sully." She felt her indignation rise up once more as a flush in her cheeks.

"Wrong?" he coaxed.

"She said it is a tyranny, that robs women of their rights, their property. She said that women should be allowed to choose who they love and when they love them."

Her last words were spoken more quietly.

"She said she believed in free love Sully. That complete freedom of sexuality is an inalienable right!" The disbelief was clear in her voice. "What happened to the Marjorie I knew?"

Sully had slowly felt the tension return to her body as the minutes had flowed onwards.

"Yet, she and I are so much closer. When we have never been. We went riding today and I haven't had that much fun with her since we were children. Yet Loren told us we were behaving wildly, and Jake told Marjorie that she looked like she was becoming in her bloomers."

"Becomin?" Sully knew that did not sound quite right.

"Becoming a man." Michaela finished, the distain for the barber and his lack of true wit apparent.

She sighed still clearly perplexed.

"I know she has changed since her divorce, that really she needed to, but I didn't expect her to change so much. She's even smoking Sully, smoking! And Mother, who only knows what she said to her."

"Maybe your Mother is wrong," Sully suggested in as calm and diplomatic a tone as he could. "Look at how she saw me when we first met. She called me a savage!" The laughter in his voice was clear.

She lifted her hand to caress his cheek in compassion. " You heard that?"

"In that old homestead? You could hear for miles!"

She smiled fondly at the memories he evoked.

"I heard you shoot her down," he admitted, the smile curving into his words. "But she was wrong, your mother. We were platonic," he continued stressing the word.

Michaela smiled and spoke her words gently. " We were never really platonic Sully, and Mother could see that much more clearly than we could!"

He felt a small amount of relief at her soft laughter.

"Sully?" he heard the unspoken question in her voice.

"I'm glad I married you." He confirmed and she laughed softly again at their wonderful connection.

"And I am glad I married you." She rubbed her nose gently against his in a gesture filled with sleepy affection.

Silence over took them as they let their eyes lull a little under the influences of exhaustion.

"Sully?" he barely heard her voice, just catching himself on the brink of sleep.

"Hmm?" he breathed.

"Did you think I was this rebellious, this wild when you met me?"

He huffed softly.

"Did you?" she asked again.

"I fell in love with you." He pronounced barely thinking, for his response was true and sure.

"Sully," she tickled his back where he was most sensitive above his hips, needing a reaction, awaiting a response.

His lulling words, poured forth on sleepy sighs as he slowly answered her question.

"You weren't wild, you were you. You were spirited and fearless, and you let your guard down for me. You let me in. I loved you. I love you." His mind was then just too drowsy for him to continue, as his eyelids drooped.

"Even in my riding bloomers?" came her vulnerable reply, but he was lost to the heavy pull of sleep.

_More to come soon! Thank you for reading!! x_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer_: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!

_Author's note!_ I hope you enjoy, I've wanted to play with the episode 'Starting Over' for quite a while, as I love the craziness that ensues from Marjorie's visit! So here goes nothing! Rx

Starting All Over Again.

By Rianne.

_Chapter Two._

It was a little bird that awoke him, singing out softly into the bright dawn sky. Sully yawned as he stretched awake, his yawn sliding into a slight wince as his shoulder groaned in protest from all the lifting he had been doing recently.

The sun was already up and he had recognised before he opened his eyes that he had slept in a little longer than he should have. His work on Preston's homestead was beginning to take its toll. He could barely keep his eyes open each night when he came home. The house should have been completed already, if the Banker could only make up his mind!

He turned towards Michaela, finding that she lay on her back beside him, the sheets pushed down to her middle, exposing the light cotton of her nightgown. The soft curves glimpsed beneath the lace fastenings caught his attention, until he realised she was awake, but that her clouded gaze remained fixed on the ceiling above her. Her hands were clasped together upon the edge of the blanket at her waist. She was still pensive.

He thought quickly over the midnight conversation they had shared, but he could not see how she had been left feeling unresolved.

Leaning over he pressed a light kiss to her cheekbone.

"Mornin'!" he whispered with a gentle smile as she blinked surprised.

"Sully, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

She turned to face him and he saw the faint dark circles under her eyes that betrayed her lack of rest.

He shook his head, " No," he spoke softly. "Bird did, but I gotta be gettin' up anyway. Work to be done."

He leaned closer again, pressing a kiss to her lips this time, trailing his fingers in a light tease of affection over the sensitive line of her jaw, before turning and lifting the covers to climb out. He shivered as he felt the light morning breeze wave over his bared skin. The day was going to be a hot one he could just feel it.

He felt her eyes follow him across the room, caught her reflection in the dresser mirror and flashed his eyes at her making her smile in a brief moment of distraction from her troubling thoughts, before she looked away her face a picture.

But he felt proud. Almost two years of marriage had changed her in some ways she was right about that. She was so much more relaxed about so many things. Their intimate relationship being one of them. That look that had passed over her face as she had watched him cross the room. He had fought hard to draw breath catching the way her gaze swept over his naked flesh and he loved that. Loved that she felt comfortable enough to openly show that to him. Except for that now all he really wanted was to cross that room and climb back in with his wife, but he was already so late.

In the short time he took to pick up the clothes he would wear all he could think was just how far she had come from the shy newlywed she had been the first time he had climbed out of the bed naked in the train car on their wedding day. After all that had taken place between them on that incredible afternoon he had been somewhat surprised and yet, understanding when she frantically averted her eyes, as if seeing his bare body in the bright lamplight had been ever so wrong. He had been touched by her innocence, and awed by the recognition that nothing had ever made him feel as loved as the intense experience they had just shared with one another.

But he smiled at how quickly she had gotten used to his sleeping without clothing. When he had slept in his lean–to he had simply slept in his clothes, but in the luxurious bed they shared the nights were sometimes just too warm for him to stand. But sadly he had yet to coax her into sleeping this way herself. He had asked her once but she had laughed him away smiling, thinking him to be teasing.

She had closed off to him again he realised. Her gaze was once more fixed on one single panel of wood, across the room from her as if she were considering it, wondering about the life the tree once led.

"You and Marjorie got plans for the day?" he asked, as he dragged on his buckskins, distracting her concentration, pulling her mind back to him.

"Colleen is taking Katie for me. I've no patients at the Clinic. I'm taking the day off." She said almost without thought. Almost as if he were disturbing her thinking and that worried him. He knew she was tired, but he rarely saw her like this.

"Takin' the day off? You?" He laughed at her, she hated when he did that and loved it all at once.

"Marjorie and I are taking some of Hank's girls to the Chateaux." She said her eyes flicking to his almost flirtily now.

He returned her look with one of kind as he commented that "Having Marjorie here may actually turn out to be good for you!" He felt a small amount of relief at the idea of her taking time for herself. It was rare that she did that these days and she worked so hard.

"Marjorie has been encouraging Hank's girls to demand better working conditions." She explained emphasising working conditions, still unable to say the real words, discuss the matter even with her husband. He watched her closely whilst she spoke watching the way that the life seemed to awaken within her as she recognised her part in a crusade. He loved the confusing puzzle that was his wife, so strident and yet so shy all at once.

"She came to me yesterday all alive about the idea of them demanding breaks during the day. She wanted my advice!"

Imagine! Her mind almost screamed with laughter. For her entire childhood she could not remember Marjorie ever asking her for advice on anything. She was the older sister the one who thought she knew everything. The one who scoffed at Michaela's dream to be a doctor, who refused to take her side in arguments with Mother. Who had told her that the beautiful house Sully had built for her was like the frail old homestead, just bigger.

But despite all that she wanted to go today for she had her own agenda. Had been puzzling for hours over the best ideas and the best way to communicate them to the girls. This was her chance, her opportunity to suggest to the women that they did not have to do the work they did. That they were intelligent and beautiful and capable and they could do anything they liked. She remembered with modest pride how she had inspired Myra to be her own person, to become the strong woman she was today.

And then she had realised something.

Something that had first flickered through her mind as she had watched with observant interest Marjorie's argument with Hank in Town. She had watched for the first time the fallout that came from strident words and confident opinions and promises. Seen how angry Hank had become, which had riled her in turn. But she could not help but wonder if this kind of ripple effect had ever ensued from her actions, and just like Marjorie she had been unable to see.

Her thoughts of Myra which had come crashing through during a moment of clear revelation in the night came back unbidden to her now, in one way they backed her belief that these women could succeed outside the Saloon life and yet…

She had encouraged Myra to tear up her contract, to be her own woman and marry the man she loved. Yet had she been guiding Myra from one man who controlled her to the next? Horace and his beliefs, which he expected her to abide by, had soon controlled Myra's freedom. The flicker of Horace that had haunted her for weeks now, lain out on his bed with the note and the deathly shade of pale gleaming across his skin, came back once again to trouble her.

Had she too lit fires she could not control, just like she feared her sister was doing?

Had she influenced vulnerable women, like such women as Victoria Woodhull and Elizabeth Cady Stanton had influenced Marjorie? Marjorie had mentioned her name in that list, her name Michaela Quinn held in such high esteem by her sister who had always fought on the other side against her. Was Marjorie just a lost vulnerable woman looking for her direction in life? In looking had she simply attached herself to others crusades instead of striving hard to work out her own path?

She had come to one sure conclusion, that the Michaela Quinn she remembered would have been proud to be held in such high esteem as those influential women, so why did it trouble her stomach and her mind so? Were Marjorie and Loren and even Sully right? Had she changed so much? Had marriage and motherhood altered her life so greatly?

"Ya goin' to Preston's…" he questioned getting a little frustrated by her lack of focus. "Could ya keep him there for a while?"

"Hmm?" she responded, just barely. Focusing upon him again confused.

"Preston. Could you keep him at the Chateaux? Might gets me some work done then!" he raised his eyebrows at her and she could not help but return his smile.

A knock at the door caused them both to startle. Michaela grasping the bedsheet and clasping it across her breast to cover herself.

" Michaela?"

Marjorie's voice whispered conspiratorially through the wood. "Michaela, are you awake?"

Sully pulled a face of amused horror as he reached and threw open the door making Marjorie jump on the spot in the hallway.

"Well good morning to you too Sully!" she quipped as if unaffected by his actions, before she leaned to her left peering around him where he stood blocking the doorway to speak directly to Michaela in the bed.

"Which one?" she asked her younger sister as she thrust two bundles of coloured fabric towards her.

Michaela, suddenly recognising that she may have let herself in for more than she realised, looked from Marjorie to Sully and back again, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Marjorie seeing the look that passed between the couple sighed exasperatedly and then pushed the blue material into Sully's hands. "The blue will do." She announced before turning on her heel and disappearing back down the hall.

With a sigh himself Sully looked down the hall once more, before looking down at the bundle in his arms. With a faint shake of his head that told it all he closed the door and turned to Michaela.

In a silence in which she seemed unable to break his gaze he unrolled the garment in his hands, holding it up. He smiled despite himself. His eyebrows asking the question.

She gave him an anxious smile, which was clearly forced.

"We're going to the Chateaux." She reiterated the corners of her mouth curving up in another similar smile as she waited for his reaction.

"In this?" he asked, amused to think his shy wife would even consider appearing in daylight dressed like this.

"You know Marjorie when she sets her mind to something," she tried to explain. "It sounded like such a good idea at the time. Preston invited her to view his hotel…"

"I'm not sure I like the sound of my wife bein' out in public dressed like this without me." His voice had become deeper, that recognisable sparkle in his eyes deepened them to an aching blue. And her heart picked up from just the sight of him.

"Sully," She whispered, almost annoyed at how breathless her voice sounded. She tried to be annoyed at his protectiveness, but knew that there was also an element of jealously in his words. "It's a bathing suit. All the fashion out East."

"Because it's cold?" he asked, his mind jumping to a long ago conversation with Brian where she had sought his help in explaining why the swimmers at Coney Island wore suits when he wore nothing. He liked the way this conversation was going; she seemed to be more cheered and less introspective than before.

"Not exactly." She replied. Looking back at the garment in his hands. "Oh my." She breathed as she took in its cut and the way it would cling to her figure.

He smiled dangerously as he crossed back to her, leaning down ever so slowly in what felt to her like an eternity of time. She tilted her chin up, expecting a heady kiss, but he instead slid his lips to her ear, his heated breath causing her eyes to close as her pulse thudded in her throat.

"I think it will suit you!" he breathed hot.

Overwhelmed by his nearness it took her a moment or two before she processed his words and caught onto his joke!

With a cry of laughter, which lightened her mood considerably, she reached for his retreating form, dragging him down for the hungry kiss she had been waiting for. The heat of his familiar body stirring hers as he pressed her back onto the mattress with a bounce, his arms sliding around her as her mouth opened achingly to his duel.

"Michaela?"

Sully broke away with a full-throated groan of frustration. "Was she like this as a child?" his voice betrayed his annoyance.

She sighed nodding her head slightly. "Oh she was so much worse…"

"Uh hu." Sully nodded too as he regretfully lifted away from her so she could sit up.

"Michaela?" Marjorie's singsong voice resounded again.

"I'm coming!" she replied her exasperation as clear as Sully's as she bestowed one last kiss to her husband and then allowed him to pull her upright.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer_: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!

_Author's note!_ I hope you enjoy, I've wanted to play with the episode 'Starting Over' for quite a while, as I love the craziness that ensues from Marjorie's visit! So here goes nothing! Thank you all so much for all your reviews! I'm so glad everyone is enjoying it so much!! Rx

Starting All Over Again.

By Rianne.

_Chapter Three._

Take the whole day off! Not only had it sounded like a nice idea at the time, it was also turning out to be a wonderful relief from her usual daily routine.

After Sully had left she had washed and dressed quickly, leaving her room to find Marjorie and Colleen already in the kitchen cooking breakfast with Katie and Brian

Although she would admit that she still thought that Marjorie's idea of the 'perfect place' for them to go may ruffle a few feathers she could not help but feel drawn in by Marjorie's newly acquired joie de vivre. She felt lighter in herself, found herself laughing uncontrollably at the smallest of things which delighted little Katie who was unable to decide which one of them to watch more, her mother or her aunt. The toddler's attention bounced happily between the pair as she played distractedly with her oatmeal, getting it everywhere but into her mouth and she thought it was of great amusement to join right on in with the laughter even though she had no idea of the why, and the sound of her sweet uninhibited giggles brought even more joy to the assembled.

In fact the mood at the breakfast table was so buoyant that she forgot her tiredness and the worries that had plagued her in the dark hours, and she felt so pleasant in the albeit temporary relief. She even forgave her sister for interrupting her intimacy with Sully earlier, but she knew he might have more to say on that subject when she saw him that evening!

With the meal over the children began to efficiently clear away, so pleased to see their mother and their aunt in such cahoots that they shooed away their offers of help and told them to be gone and enjoy their day.

Michaela drove the wagon from the homestead to town, Marjorie beside her and the spirited behaviour only continued with Marjorie suddenly bursting into full voiced song as they hurtled through the lush green grass, the sun full and bright bouncing off the highlights in their hair and warming their skin. Michaela's ever present medical bag sitting between them on the bench, but today it also contained two little surprises. The bathing suits Marjorie had brought with her from back East!

With a cheeky smile in her sister's direction she whipped the horses reins to increase their speed and wholeheartedly joined in the singing which only faded into deep felt laughter as they crossed the bridge by the meadow and came rumbling into town.

With a loud "Woaaahhh!" Michaela drew the wagon to a halt in front of the Saloon in a storm cloud of dust, and could hardly hide her amusement at the somewhat angry looks she garnered from passing townsfolk. She was having fun! What did they have to be so upset about!

Marjorie jumped down from the wagon, hardly waiting for it to stop moving, and certainly without waiting for a chivalrous gentleman to guide her.

"Good Morning!" she announced joyfully to anyone in listening distance. Completely and almost stately ignoring the whispers and stares from the annoyed and curious townsfolk.

"It's starting all over again!" Loren said to no one in particular but his comment was not lost on either of the Quinn women.

"And just what are you implying Mr. Bray?" Marjorie asked fixing him with faux innocent eyes.

"The two of you. Trouble causin'. Trouble causin' I tell you!"

"Mr. Bray!" Michaela announced with a sly but knowing grin to her sister. "Whatever do you mean?"

Loren walked forwards to the edge of the wooden walkway. "'S just like you when you first come here. Always poking your nose where it don't belong. Just you watch what your doin'." He warned, shaking his head as he turned and paced back into his store.

Marjorie turned to Michaela with a wink and said, "See, such a fuddy duddy, what did I tell you!"

Michaela shook her head with an amused sigh and then a movement on the porch of the Saloon caught her attention. The swing doors wafted once and then out slipped one of Hank's girls, she looked quickly around her, from side to side before hurriedly dashing out onto the road and over to the wagon.

"Morning!" Marjorie cried happily, as she helped the girl up into the back of the wagon.

Slowly, one by one, several of Hank's girls came creeping out into the street. Taking cautious glances as they rushed to the wagon as if it was to be their best means of shelter. Soon three of them sat in the wagon, looking expectedly at Michaela in the driving seat and Marjorie who remained standing guard by the wheel.

"Is that it?" Marjorie enquired of the last girl to climb aboard.

The young red head shook her head before speaking slowly, "No, Sarah wants to come too. She said she'd go out last. The others said they was too scared to go. Oh Hank's gonna be so mad when he finds out." The girls face was a picture of innocent fear, which greatly contrasted against the life she led.

"You leave Hank to me." Marjorie proclaimed reassuringly. "Telling me to mind my own business indeed! We women are each others business!" She proclaimed again for good measure.

The younger girls looked to one another for reassurance, their need to place their trust in Marjorie as frightening to them as the idea of taking a stand against Hank, but Marjorie's words were so inspiring and they trusted Dr. Mike, and so decided that neither of them would bring them any harm.

"Oh, I here she comes now, I think!" Michaela whispered conspiratorially back to the wagon.

All the women focused their attention on the front of the Saloon as they watched the last rebel slide her way out between the swing doors. The girl could not have been more than seventeen, not much different to the age of her own eldest daughter and Michaela realised the aim of her mission today in much greater clarity in that moment.

The girl was just lifting her thin skirts and placing her dainty foot to a rung on the wagon wheel when the sudden deep bellow of an angry man rumbled through the air.

"Hank!" Cried Michaela, suddenly aware that they had not really discussed a plan for this eventuality! Hank always slept until noon, they had not thought it necessary!

"Quick!" she cried as Marjorie gave the girl the boost she needed to put most of the weight onto the wagon and then scrambled in herself.

"Go!" she cried to Michaela and Michaela did just that! Whipping the reins hard and coaxing the horses into motion.

As the wagon barrelled past the entrance of the Saloon all on board burst into violent laughter at the sight of Hank Lawson rushing out onto the street in his under wears, angry as a bear awoken from his sleep! He yelled and shouted at the girls in the wagon and even more so at Marjorie, but she just waved with a smile and shouted, "Just exercising a little free choice Hank!" Which made him shout louder and in his anger he kicked up a cloud of dirt, accidentally getting a face and mouth full of dust as a faint breeze blew with perfect timing, which made the wagon scream with triumphant laughter! A laughter which continued all the way to the hotel, only beginning to fade as the girls caught sight of their destination.

"Oooooh!" cried Sarah as Michaela pulled the wagon to a stop outside the Chateaux. "Look at this place! It's so fancy!" the young girl breathed, unable to hide her awe and seeing her disbelief reflected in the expressions of her fellow strikers.

"We're goin' here?" one asked unable to believe her luck.

"That's right!" Michaela confirmed with a beaming smile.

Their arrival had certainly set tongues a wagging, even more so than their dramatic escape from town, but here the clientele was much more refined!

Seeing the waves of discomfort that passed over the girls, and the way that they looked down at their clothing and then at that of the women milling around the Chateaux, Marjorie gave the girls a wicked smile.

"Wouldn't worry about the dresses girls, we won't be needing those!"

The girl's eyes grew wide as Marjorie continued, as they wondered for the first time if Marjorie was actually not interested in them for the sake of their freedom, but that this might in fact be someone else who wanted to exploit them. But Marjorie's next words put point to their thoughts.

"We're going in the hot springs!"

And even Michaela could not help but be filled with a devilish excitement as she watched the surprise turn to delight in the young women's eyes.

Caught along in the flow and the thrill of the excitement Michaela was able to momentarily put aside her discomfort as she changed into the borrowed bathing suit. Although the flickered remembrances of her morning encounter with Sully, which this suit had inspired and had never been fully sated, were pleasant enough a distraction from her nerves.

"Michaela! Come on!" cried Marjorie's impatient voice through the door and so with a steeled breath she tugged the matching bathing cap over the tresses of her hair and slipped into a gown. She had been right in thinking that the suit would cling to her every curve and so she had snatched up the cloaking gown when it had been offered by the Chateaux staff.

She opened the door and realised in that moment that she needn't have bothered or paid heed to her modesty.

Before her in the fancy lobby of the hotel stood Marjorie and the girls. The five of them had the attention of every other person in that room and yet not one of them seemed to care. And not one of them had taken the staff up on their offer of a modesty cloak.

Hank's girls were not even wearing bathing suits. They simply stood right in the middle of the lavishly decorated lobby, their bare feet pressing into the soft pile carpets, and their bodies covered by nothing but the skimpiest of under things! Lace and bows were all that kept the garments together, and they barely covered the important places!

She looked to Marjorie in alarmed amusement, the group before her suddenly seeming so humorous despite her misgivings, but Marjorie's face held no such response. She simply shook her head at her younger sister, as Michaela stood in her figure smothering cloak, before turning and indicating to the girls that they head outside.

Michaela heard the rumbling disbelief and offended reactions from the other Chateaux guests, but Marjorie simply gave them all a smile and a dignified bow of her head as she marched across the room with the scantily clad girls and the more humorously dressed Michaela in tow!

When they stepped out of the Chateaux the rumbles of disbelief were the same, as inside the staff suddenly rallied around in a desperate search to find the owner. Mr Lodge surely must be notified of such a scandalous event taking place at his renowned hotel! Especially an event lead by a woman claiming to have been invited to test out the facilities!

Outside the curious group continued to attract a large amount of attention, and in seeing the young girls and Marjorie rise above it all, to be so calm about wearing so little, Michaela realised that she felt a little silly at being so shy. With the garments the younger women were wearing no one would be looking at her in her considerably more modest apparel. With a breath of determination she felt her bravery instil through her as she peeled off the cloak, tossing it aside as she climbed calmly into the water beside her sister. A smile breaking at the feel of the deliciously warming water engulfing her skin!

She did not see Marjorie's look of delight, and it was probably a good thing, as it had been one of profound awe for she had not truly believed her little sister would go through with this! And it had pleased her so much that she had.

When Michaela did turn to her, the smile they shared was one of such closeness between the pair. A smile she never would have ever thought their opposing personalities could have ever allowed. In that instant Marjorie and Michaela both believed from the bottom of their hearts that her coming to Colorado had been a wonderful thing!

Meanwhile, news of his spirited visitors had reached Mr. Lodge, and his outrage at the intrusion, however invited upon himself, riled him almost as much as his curiosity at the tales of scantily clad young women! And he had been too distracted by both pressing issues that he had not noticed the young Dr. Cook tagging on to his side as he marched out towards the front of the hotel.

He did however notice all the disgusted scowls and unhappy faces of his current guests, which seriously outweighed his thoughts about Marjorie Quinn.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer_: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!

_Author's note!_ A Thousand apologies for how long this has taken for me to get ready for reading. I would like to take a minute to thank all who have encouraged me, especially Anny, Kruemi and BubbySophie who have been nudging me somewhat patiently into getting into gear with this particular story and Sadie Cass who's thought provoking post helped get me writing on this story again. And all those who have left me feedback and reviews! I thank you more than you will ever fully know!!! Rx

Starting All Over Again.

By Rianne.

_Chapter Four._

Whilst the girls relaxed into the mildly bubbling waters, sighing and stretching back luxuriously Michaela kept her eyes demurely to the close range. Always conscious of the way she was sitting and how much of her floated above the surface of the soothing liquid. It was the first time she had found the chance to test the hot springs here for herself. She had helped many a patient here, including Sully before the Chateaux had even been built, but her time had always been too short for her to experience them herself. They were rather wonderful. She spread her arms out a little wider, feeling the aerated water buoy her fingers as they dragged ripples across the surface.

The part of her which was relishing the adventure wanted to gage the reaction that their little debacle was creating, but the other older, quieter, more mature part of her wanted to retain a little of her modesty and reminded her that she needed to focus on the reason she came there.

She knew she must concentrate on capturing the imaginations of the girls and informing their minds and not become distracted by the soothing waters and the shimmering steam. She forced herself to concentrate so much that she actually missed Preston's hurried arrival as he came bursting through the front doors of the hotel, his focus close minded upon his tirade until he stepped out into the daylight and became distracted by all the whispers, and shocked conversations.

Preston however certainly had not missed the cause of them either; his eye had been helplessly drawn in the direction of the hot springs moments after he had burst out blinking into the sunshine, only to be rewarded by a haze of white lace and ribbons obscured by the blur of bright refracting sunlight bouncing off the mirroring surface. And was that Michaela Quinn in a bathing suit?

Before he had been given the chance to allow his eyes to focus again the arrival of a whole new group of guests won over his attention and distracted him for the moment as he turned to the doctor and informed him as they crossed to the arriving carriage. "Andrew, this couple has come all the way from San Francisco."

Right upon the edges of the power of his hearing, in a much sweeter pitch than the grumbling of his unhappy guests he could hear the girlish giggles of the red headed girl exclaiming that she thought she was in the lap of luxury. That massaged his pride even considering the source of the compliment. She certainly was in his not so humble opinion!

With Andrew still attached to his side he managed to start to speak to his first lady guest. "Welcome to the Spring Chateaux! May I?" Preston turned on the charm as he guided the lady guest down from her seat in the chateaux carriage, fawning with his usual spiel. Fighting his chaotic thoughts as he spoke, his distraction unmissably clear in his tone, but he continued in his efforts to keep it hidden. He repeated the speech with a hearty handshake bestowed upon the lady's gentleman husband. Then taking his pocket watch out to discretely peruse the time he wondered to himself how much longer Marjorie and her friends would be likely to stay.

Andrew however had found his attentions helplessly directed towards all the commotion. "Looks like we have some visitors." He announced with a new gleam in his eye completely oblivious to the Bankers anger. If there was one thing Preston A. Lodge despised it was being made a fool of.

Still unaware of the Chateaux owner's presence the women in the water continued to giggle and chatter amongst themselves, thoroughly enjoying their heated dip. Whilst around them the crowd of intrigued and offended observers continued to grow.

Louisa the bubbly red headed girl chattered incessantly, seeming to be the voice for the group for she clearly stated what they were all thinking when she happily announced, "you know it aint just taking the day off that feels so good,"

Michaela smiled at seeing her own thoughts reflected and could not help but confirm the girls musings, "Its taking things into your own hands."

Marjorie quite clearly in agreement with this added, "you can take charge of your own destiny."

Michaela, pleased to once again have Marjorie standing with her finally saw her chance to put across her suggestions. "Exactly. Well you are intelligent and capable young women."

The girls simply shook their heads incredulously, but off their looks Michaela continued to reassure them. "You don't have to do…"

Her words faded into a slightly uncomfortable silence as she thought of the best way to phrase what she wished to say without just coming right out with the words, but each passing second increased her discomfort and she finally just said, "that sort of work." Her words accompanied by a cautious shrug.

Marjorie was instantly on the offensive again. Her judgemental tone the perfect imitation of their mother.

"Now, now, Michaela, just because you didn't choose their profession does not mean they do not have a right to it."

"I'm just pointing out that they have alternatives." Michaela counter played, her countenance directed at Marjorie and allowing her the luxury of missing the disgusted glares of a rather respectable elderly couple as they passed and also to miss the final approach of Preston and a boyish looking Dr. Cook.

"Like what?" Louisa asked, now quite interested in what the Lady Doctor had to say. "I don't got a family or a husband."

Never defeated Michaela only had to think for a second before she suggested, "Well you could get another job? You could be a…" she paused again, "a waitress."

Preston who was now upon them and could not have stopped any closer to the edge without taking a dip himself broke into the conversation, "I'm afraid we haven't any positions available at present."

His face was a picture of mildly controlled anger, and his forced smile also held the gleam of a man who appreciated the sight before him much more than a gentleman of his standing should.

Marjorie, beside Michaela actually had the decency to look a little contrite as she smiled sweetly. "I decided to take you up on your offer to see your hotel." She almost fawned, twisting her hands in front of herself like a little girl begging for something from an adult.

With Preston suddenly standing so close and reining his gaze over all of them in that way Michaela found extreme waves of self consciousness ripple over her and she looked away from his gaze, wishing she could completely submerge herself under the water to get away from it. Her hands even rising a little in a hopeless attempt to cover her modesty.

"And you had the intriguing notion of bringing along a few friends."

Preston's voice dripped with so much sarcasm he practically poured the words back into the waters.

"Oh, well if you would like us to leave?" Marjorie announced, that mischievous glimmer back in her eyes as she looked around at the circle of women and they all began to rise.

Suddenly around them the observing crowd rose into a cacophony of disapproval as more and more bare flesh appeared as Hank's girls rose from the waters in a display reminiscent of a tableaux of Venuses. Quite simply a sight to behold as some of the gentleman guests even offered their hands to the younger women to aid their passage from the water onto the decking. The soft curves of bare thigh and arm and the clinging of diaphanous fabrics caused Preston's body and mind to alert in more ways than one.

"Oh no, no, please stay as long as you would like!" He cried out waving his arms around in a frantic display.

The women halted, Louisa looking up to him to meet his gaze with an alluring smile, but Preston's gaze had been captured by a sight he found much more pleasing. The usually well-hidden curving figure of a certain Dr. Michaela Quinn.

Unaware of his continued attentions it was only when she sank back to sit once again that Preston's voice shattered through to her, "Michaela, I must say, you are looking extremely well."

She just did not know what to do. In that one horrifying moment all eyes were immediately fixated upon her. The lecherous sneer in his voice seeming to echo in the steam clouded air and the grin on his face betrayed his deepest thoughts and desires and made her stomach twist in disgust despite her outward appearance of demure flushed cheeks and girlish shyness. She sank lower into the water unable to escape all the attention as Preston tipped his hat at her in a gesture laden with the kind of sleaze she would have expected from the likes of Hank Lawson.

Upon finally releasing her from his gaze Preston turned to the young Doctor, finally allowing his frustrations to bubble over as he yanked on the young man's arm, shattering his naughty, beaming smile as he dragged him back indoors ignoring his obvious reluctance.

With Preston gone the women dissolved into carefree laughter, although Michaela laughed along too she found that her heart was not quite in the mood for this any longer and the heat in her cheeks took a long while to fade.

Then before too much time had passed two uniformed hotel staff appeared cautiously at the edge of the spring, each bore a selection of cloaks just like the one Michaela had worn earlier and the women finally recognised that it was in fact time to leave.

Dressing calmly, the soothing springs having eased their rebellion into a much quieter protest they all slid off their separate ways. Michaela dropped Marjorie and the girls back in town. Marjorie heading off at full speed immediately to arrange a riding lesson for the reverend and the girls slunk cautiously towards the back entrance to the saloon, hoping to at least find Hank so angry that he had drunk himself quiet.

Michaela then finding herself alone headed out then to the meadow where Colleen and Brian were playing in the sunshine with Katie. With a relaxed smile on her face that the children had not seen for quite some time she took Katie from them instructing them to have fun with their afternoon before sliding back into the wagon and heading for home with a pleasant afternoon of her own to be spent with her youngest to look forward to.

0000000000

Over at the site of Preston's homestead even the ground was steaming for the midday sun had gained such prowess. The remaining early morning dew had risen into a hazy fog, which had floated away into the bluest sky, and the absent clouds meant that no barrier stood between Sully and that ball of fire in the vast expanse.

Swiping a heavy tired hand across his forehead Sully finally admitted defeat and sank down to his haunches, as he swigged a mouthful of lukewarm water from his canteen before pouring a liberal amount of over his head, shaking away the escaping droplets from his mane.

"Mr. Sully? I don't believe that is what I am paying you for now is it?"

Preston.

Sully bit back the acid reflux remark finding himself helped to do that by a single thought of his beautiful wife and the recognition that he and Michaela could not afford for him to loose this contract just because of a few words, words which slipped out of his angry mouth in the heat of the midday sun.

For only the second time in his life he had been forced to think seriously about money. Forced to bite back his grimace, as progress and change had impressed themselves upon what he treasured most. His freedom, the earth, nature and his family.

He still owed Daniel.

Daniel. How that name still hurt his wounded pride. He wanted to forgive, it was his nature, and yet something was preventing him from doing so. He knew that Michaela had been unaware of the pain she had been causing and from that he had been able to forgive her, knowing her innocence was just one of her many wonderful qualities.

Yet the roughness which he felt twinge in his chest always tightened his breathing and then slumped lower as if his heart sank into his stomach at the very thought of being indebted to a man who had so deviously fallen in love with his wife. He had trusted him, he had thought him a man of principles.

Daniel had never made any gestures towards Michaela, which could have been construed as anything other than acts of friendship; Michaela had taken great pains to assure him of that. It was more that he felt deceived, had always thought that only men of suspect moral character made even spoken advances towards another man's wife. It was thoughts like these that had plagued him for weeks now, plagued him throughout the construction of Preston's house. He had worked his aggression into the very structure of the building and had created such a firm and steady monument to his internal pain that it would most likely stand for much longer than they themselves lived.

Yet all his venting was not helping to ease his mind and all his thoughts of offering forgiveness seemed to slam up against the barrier of pain he had found erected in his gut when Daniel's behaviours toward Michaela had aroused his suspicions. Over time this barrier had collected these thoughts and used them as reinforcements for his anger, forming a solid block in his stomach which reasserted its self whenever he considered forgiveness and now stood between his sending that telegram to the man he had once indebted his life to.

Preston's self indulgent sigh broke his frown as with a barely disguised glare in the direction of the pompous Bostonian's back Sully slammed the lid back upon his canteen, dropping it to the ground beside his feet. The culmination of all his worst thoughts turning his heavy heart into an angry beating vibration in his chest that made him all the more determined to finish this project as soon as he could.

He stood, feeling the earlier strain return to his heavy legs as he straightened his back bearing up against the heavy weight of the smouldering sun.

Preston's eyes had lifted to the monumental growing structure before them. The perfect combination of Sully's tasteful earthy talents enlarged with an ugly melding of Preston's narcissism into a garish, showy monstrosity. The house clearly screamed 'respect me, for I have power. Look at me, for I have money.' A building made simply for show, in order to meet the Banker's overblown personal ambitions. It was not a home.

"Wouldn't like to think the entire Sully family was taking the day off." Preston broke the birdsong sweetness with the voice of a man clearly used to appreciating his own vocal inflections. A voice filled with the familiar nuances of the schoolyard boy who knows something and cannot wait to tell.

"I received a visit from your lovely wife and her charming sister this morning," Preston continued without waiting for a reaction from Sully, as he knew his opponent rarely took the bait. It was a challenge and Preston A. Lodge found challenges just his taste. Although he consciously kept a short distance from the mountain man knowing from experience that the swing of his fist could pack some serious force. He smiled to himself remembering with smug satisfaction the expression that had flickered across Mr. Sully's face when he had told him is beautiful wife was extremely 'sensual.' Even the bruises and swelling had almost been worth that look.

Preston the perfect example of the boy bullied when young always seeming to acquire the tendencies of the bully when grown.

And to Preston these recent events held an opportunity even he could not have foreseen. He had wished to approach Sully today and tell him of his new idea to enlarge a lower room and reduce a second level room into two smaller ones. This would have been his second re-think this week alone once envisioned had become absolutely essential to his happiness with the finished house and yet even he had recognised that Sully's patience was wearing thin. He had concluded that what he needed in order to help accomplish this was some kind of leverage, something he could use to his advantage and seeing Michaela dressed as she had been that morning… it seemed just as if the perfect leverage had simply floated into his hot springs!

"I have been thinking, maybe I ought to add some more rooms in on the second level," Preston continued breezing over the words as Sully's mind suddenly picked up on the fact that Preston was beaming from ear to ear and recognised that he was about to be duped and sneakily coerced into something else he did not wish to do.

"Quite a fetching outfit she was wearing, your wife, she is looking extremely well if you'll allow me to say."

Sully remained silent simply allowing Preston's words to slide over his back as he waited longingly for him to get to his particular point.

"And her sister too," Preston continued. "Although I cannot speak for her new friends. You should have words about the company she keeps."

"What about new rooms?" Sully questioned, as always disregarding the words falling profusely from Preston's mouth, useless letters in fancy combinations, useless words which decorated his speech and held little or no meaning and certainly did not hold the power and belief that his wife's speech did, her words empowered and guided by a real knowledge. It was the bumbling of a weak man who had come to recognise that his only strength lay in flummoxing those he needed things from.

"I've had to give some of my guests some compensatory items and treatments from Dr. Cook at the clinic in order to smooth over your wife and sister-in-law's behaviour this morning. I believe that your acceptance of a few changes to our current plans would be an ample way to smooth out these monies I have had to pay out and I do believe you now owe to me."

Preston did not wait for a response from his architect. Truthfully he was quite afraid of the possible response, he had played upon the one weakness he had been able to uncover about this unusual man Mr. Sully, his sense of pride. With one quick look at the frown that had recently scarred the quiet man's face so often it was creating wrinkles he turned and strode back to his carriage with an air of smug satisfaction. He would get those alterations now. That was for certain.

Sully simply stood in the shadow of his creation; he could do nothing but stand as he felt that vibrant flood of hopeless frustration well up.

He could do nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!

Author's note! I hope you enjoy, I've wanted to play with the episode 'Starting Over' for quite a while, as I love the craziness that ensues from Marjorie's visit! So here goes nothing! Rx

Starting All Over Again.

By Rianne.

_Chapter Five._

The warm afternoon had glided with ease into early evening for Michaela and Katie. The sinking shadows that the falling sun cast hidden from their view as the sound of sweet baby giggles drifted from the rug by the empty hearth. Lost in the loving connection between mother and child their thoughts happy and delightedly preoccupied with one another. How long had it been since she had found the time to spend an entire afternoon simply playing with her daughter…

Michaela drew Katie up onto her lap, cuddling her baby softness and she could not help but smile as Katie accepted her affection for only a moment or so before she wiggled desperately to be free. Determined, just like she and Sully.

She released her from her motherly embrace, watching with a faint shake of her head how speedily Katie crawled across the floor to the toy she was after. How quickly she was growing. How much the mother in her wished she could just keep her safe in her arms forever, and yet how much she longed to see her grow and discover who she would become.

The melodic twang of the clock on the mantle broke her reverie and she realised with mild surprise just how late the hour was and she was suddenly alarmed at her forgetfulness.

She should have started on their family meal quite a long time before now. She would never be able to get it ready on time. And they would all be returning home soon, hungry and tired. And yet here maybe was an opportunity. She glanced down at Katie checking her progress for a moment's reassurance as her mind began to work. An intimate meal… with her husband… she thought a smile breaking. Wouldn't that be the perfect way to end a day like this one?

An idea had begun to spiral, although the sound of a horse approaching cut through her thoughts and she rose from the floor to peer cautiously out of the window. Relief flooded her at the familiar sight of her eldest son.

Matthew was only there to stop by momentarily he announced as he entered the house, smiling at his mother before crossing the floor to give Katie a big brother's cuddle. He was there to check upon them. He had never called it that, but since the Currier brother's had taken she, Brian and Katie hostage he had begun to check up on the homestead periodically during the day, a silent gesture she was secretly very glad of.

He usually came with a message or a question, some way he used to disguise the real reason for his numerous visits and today, in an answer to her thoughts, Matthew had come to happily suggest he take Marjorie out to Grace's with Colleen and Brian that evening.

As he left she hugged him tightly for a second in that motherly way which always made him squirm like an embarrassed little boy, but she seemed delighted at his taking his brother and sister off her hands. He had noticed that there seemed to be some underlying tensions between his mother and Sully in recent weeks, which had been the main reason he had been prompted to offer to take his siblings for the evening, allow them a little time alone and he was relieved to hear her so pleased about his offer, he took that as a good sign.

Once Matthew departed she finalized her plans with a faint smile on her lips. So… that left only little Katie, her eyes dipped to take in the little girl who was crawling happily about the floor. She could easily feed her early and then there would be time. She would be able to quickly rustle up something simple that could segue into a little special time to spend with Sully. After all she hoped the food would not be the only thing that the evening focussed upon!

"Hmmm, Katie," Michaela spoke aloud as she was thinking. "What would you like for supper?" she asked her directly and was offered her prized toy rabbit in response.

_0000000000_

A little later in Town it seemed that Marjorie yet again stood right in the path of a fight just ready to be unavoidably walked into with Loren Bray. Their irrepressible senses of what was right and what was wrong jarring viciously against the others sense of the correct and it simply seemed destined to cause yet more flames to fly.

As Loren approached the gathered folk the look glaring across his face was one of stony disbelief that even a Quinn woman would be responsible for such a fool hardy misadventure as this one. Encouraging a blind man to ride a horse! It smacked in the face of everything decent and was certainly unhealthy for the miss fortuned Reverend. Making a fool of the poor man like this, making him think that he could accomplish things that were just no longer feasible. Shameful behaviour!

He quickened his pace crossing towards that figure, resplendent in violet pantaloons with her red hair gleaming, the easiest target to locate. The sooner he could reach her the sooner this whole debacle could be brought to an end and safely.

The Reverend needed compassion and to accept that he could no longer be the man he was before the sickness took his sight. He had been getting on darned well in his care even if he did say so himself. Living above the store with him and reading together from the bible in order to conjure up wonderful sermons. Getting along just fine they were.

That Marjorie Quinn!

What kind of woman had she become? Coercing Matthew and all those bystanders to help and encourage these actions! Why had no one thought that the Reverend might get terribly hurt by these foolish misadventures? The old storekeeper could not believe that all these good people simply stood by shouting words of encouragement and even clapping as the horses sped into a canter.

"Stop! Stop! What do you think you are doing? Get down from there, or you're going to get yourself hurt!" Cried Loren as he finally reached the meadow. Marching to the Reverend's horse he half dragged the religious man down to the ground.

Huffing out a breath of anger he quickly entrusted the Reverend into Matthew's care before turning back and with a look she had never expected to see on the face of a man like Loren Bray he came striding back fearlessly towards Marjorie Quinn.

In one motion that occurred with such speed that she could do nothing to prevent it, Loren had grasped hold of her elbow and begun to drag her like a naughty child across the meadow in full view of all the assembled, the tension in his body building to a furious peak.

Certainly not one to mishandle a lady he found that he simply could not restrain the way in which he almost threw her up the steps and into the darker enclosure of the Mercantile ground floor.

Unaccustomed to allowing anyone to manhandle her, or even speak to her in such a manner, she had squirmed and fought against him the entire way only to find the wiry older man possessed a strength which was not belied by his stature and build.

Once inside he released her as she tried to cover the jerk she created as the force she had been applying to struggle free was almost doubled by his relinquishment of her arm and she immediately reached up to remove her hat in a way to hide the fact that she very nearly stumbled to the floor.

"Do you realise you could have gotten him killed?" Loren wasted no time in getting straight to his point now that they were away from the majority of prying eyes.

Marjorie huffed out her rebuffal, "he's an experienced horseman.'

"The man is blind," Loren stressed as if the woman before him had actually not noticed.

"You are the one who's blind." Came her response accompanied by the stab of her pointer finger. "To your own selfishness."

Unable as it seemed she always was to stand still she was already, now freed, crossing him to head out the door and Loren realising this angrily recaptured her arm to halt her progress.

"Selfishness?" he growled.

"If the Reverend becomes independent again, you are going to have to face your own loneliness." She stated with a truth to her words that bit with her anger and he let go of her arm at the sting and the sudden close proximity of her.

"Oh you know all about that don't ya." He retorted, his nose rising with an air of 'say what you will for you cannot hurt me.' "I don't see many men lined up to take you out."

He had got her there and they both knew it, the way she gasped a dead give away that her buttons had been intimately pushed.

"I could have any man I wanted." Came her response, but it lacked some of the power of her earlier statements and held a slight undertone of vulnerability.

"Oh yeah! Course you could, you just don't want any, do ya!" Loren laughed his hands sliding cockily into his waistcoat pockets as he recognised that he was easily gaining the upper hand and was thoroughly enjoying it.

He was therefore unprepared for her backlash.

"I certainly don't want a stubborn…"

He withdrew his hands for his pocket in indignation his face folding into his characteristic frown as he listened to her spit out her continued assault.

"…Opinionated…"

She moved closer, edging into her opponent, getting right into his face to make sure that she did not miss a single one of her insults hitting the sensitive spots upon his ego.

"I aint impressed with your big words." He bartered back, cutting her off, shaking his head dismissively in a way that drove her half crazy.

"You aint ha?" she challenged, stressing her resort to the lower language she knew he understood, tilting her chin in defiance as she refused plainly to step down or offer defeat. A true Quinn.

They both froze a moment, on edge, hearts pounding with the thrill of the fight, neither ready to bring these new frustrations into actual honest thoughts. Still sizing up the other like animals ready to savage. Not realizing by a long way what was actually taking place between them.

"You think you can just waltz into this town with your fancy clothes and your fancy ways…"

She broke into a smile at his words, finding herself unable to hold the expression of her enjoyment at finding someone up to the standard of challenging her!

"Oh yes, I've heard all about you, over at the Hot Springs, sitting in there… naked…"

His expression was one of disapproval, but her mind clearly recognised that he had certainly been rather intrigued by this story of her that had passed through the Colorado Springs townsfolk like Chinese Whispers played by children. Naked indeed!

"You are just threatened by powerful women." She remarked not even caring to check the amusement in her voice as she refused, just as stubborn as he, to step backwards to create a more respectable distance between them.

"I think a woman should be a woman," he growled back. "What's wrong with that?"

"You wouldn't know what to do with a real woman." She countered without even thinking. Letting the words and laughter that screamed in her mind burst forth, distracted as she was for some reason by how close they now stood to one another. Barely a breath of air between them and she could not recall how that had happened.

"I wouldn't? Oh yeah…?"

And then his mouth was on hers. He dragged her lips to his, forcing her head with his hand suddenly entangled in her fiery curls.

She did not resist him.

Surprised at the frustrated hunger of his gesture. His desperate plundering of her lips. The sensations all worked to leave her breathless and cause her heart to hammer in her chest.

When they broke apart after a heavy moment, a look of sheer amazement and horror on his slack jawed face, she thought nothing to reaching up to recapture his lips once more. Desperate to rekindle these new thrills that sparked between them. The propriety loving Marjorie Quinn a forgotten memory as she drew his body into greater contact with hers, encircling his neck and back with her unrestrained arms.

Both found themselves flooded with remembrances of what it felt like to be lost to passion. Feeding off this crazy and overwhelming tension, which boiled powerfully between them. The months and years of loneliness melting away in mere moments.

What was happening?

And yet, as she gave into it, much to the delight of her body, she found she simply did not care to wonder!

_0000000000_

The simple stew was bubbling in its pot on the stove as Michaela gave it one last stir before returning back to her messy baby in her tiny chair by the dinner table. Sully had fashioned the chair for Katie so that she could sit at the table with everyone and be able to see the world. Sadly it just gave her more access to space and space meant only one thing when linked to Katherine Sully. Mess…but how such a little person could create this much of a disaster was just beyond her!

"Bath time." Michaela stated with a nod, a motion that Katie imitated with a very serious expression in which Michaela saw her own mother powerfully reflected.

Picking up her sticky daughter she carried her over to the tin bath, which sat on the cabinet counter, undressing her quickly she checked the water temperature with her elbow before sliding Katie in and immediately felt the water splash all over her own front.

With a sigh to calm her frustration Michaela closed her eyes momentarily and upon opening them brushed the front of her dress to remove the excess water before she reached out for the small sweet smelling soap bar and cloth. Any other day she would have been mad, it would have been the final straw which broke her. Yet today, today it was just another thing she would have to do, change her clothes, as in that moment she recalled Sully's smile that morning and knew that he would be well worth making sure she looked nice for!

Bath time over and Katie swaddled in the soft towelling she carried her precious bundle up to the nursery, re-dressing her in her beautiful sleep dress.

The look, which graced her daughters face when she placed her into her cot with a kiss, was one of deep indignant hurt. Bedtimes had never been easy when Michaela had been young and bedtimes with Katie were as if all the pain she had caused her own mother had been stored up to be thrown back at her in the form of her own flesh and blood.

It only took moments before the huge heavy tears welled in her baby's big blue eyes, followed closely by the look Katie could have only inherited from her father. The look Sully used all too often upon her that she was powerless against. And then the tears flooded forth. Michaela, as much as she wanted desperately to stay, had to walk slowly away whispering 'Goodnight' to her. She did not want to leave her like this. It caused actual physical hurt to well in her chest as she drew the door closed on the room until just a small gap remained, pausing a moment to press her forehead to the cool wood. It has to be done she reminded herself, or she will never learn to go to sleep when she is told.

Ten minutes she reassured herself. The maternal voice in her head reminding her that she was not being as cruel as her heart felt. If she were still crying in ten minutes she would go back to her.

But for now, for now she would occupy her mind and distract herself from the self-pitying sniffles, which she could just distinguish at the periphery of her hearing. A clean, dry dress. With a resigned breath she entered the bedroom she shared with Sully, crossed to the cupboard and searched out her favourite dress, pale sky blue with a gentle lace trim, a little too fancy for regular life in Colorado Springs, but perfect for an pleasant occasion like she had planned for this evening.

Katie's whimpers continued as she changed, continued on as she gently spritzed herself with a breeze of the perfume Sully liked. Pausing momentarily by the mirror she took in her improved appearance. Until her face broke into a frown and she leaned closer to the mirror to discover what had looked like a huge bruise on first inspection was actually a smudge of Katie's dinner, which she had somehow spread from her eyebrow up to her hairline. Good job she had caught that!

Michaela huffed out a breath at how foolish she was being. It was almost like she was nervous, like she was going on her first date with Sully. This was her husband for heavens sakes!

With a washcloth she dabbed away the tasty smudge and finally loosened her hair from its pins, feeling the heavy weight on her scalp ease at its freedom. Better.

Yet Katie was still crying.

She was just putting Katie down for the final time, she was finally quiet, her eyes had lolled just right, when she heard the sound of the door slamming closed downstairs. She smiled broadly, Sully was back!

Although, as she listened, she realised that something was wrong. Oh he was certainly back and he was not being quiet about that fact. That could mean only one thing. Suddenly the pleasure of her day and the lovely quiet afternoon she had spent with her youngest was growing gloomy as if the gaining evening darkness was recapturing and stealing her spirit once again.

Sully's day had clearly not been a good one.

Katie who had been calm and dozing in her loving arms began to mewl, squirming in protest against her mother's attempts to lower her into her cot. Somehow instinctively sensing the change in the atmosphere and the affect it was having upon her mother. Her tiny, chubby baby arms flailing and accosting Michaela with delicate pounds of her frustration, which only added to the current decent of Michaela's mood.

"Oh Sully!" she growled in the direction of the door, suddenly extremely annoyed at his insensitivity. She lifted Katie to her breast again and began to take the room in large circles, rocking until she soothed again, rubbing her baby back in a calming rhythm. Gently soothing out the wrinkles in the soft cotton sleep dress.

She could hear Sully blundering about downstairs, heard his footsteps as they moved about the room heavy in his boots, heard him helping himself to the meal she was making for them. Could not help but smile almost bitterly as she heard his yelp as he burned something on the pan. Well it served him right! He should have waited until it was ready to be served! Always so impatient!

He had not come up to see where she was. She sighed softly, lowering her head to drop a kiss to her daughter's soft blond head, breathing in the baby smell that still clung to her. He always used to come up to see where she was, always used to seek her out as soon as he stepped through the door.

Michaela hummed softly, comforting Katie and herself with the soothing vibrations of the sound, which rumbled from deep in her chest to echo in her daughters.

After the sweetness of their playful entanglement that morning Sully had not left her thoughts throughout the entire day. She had been looking forward to the evening time, that old familiar flickering sweetness had built in her belly and had tingled whenever her thoughts had wandered to him.

Yet now that she thought about it the feeling was one that was suddenly clouded by the saddening recognition that it had been quite a while since she had felt that sensation. Sure they had been intimate and close throughout their marriage, but lately it had lacked some of the spontaneity, some of the precious romance, some of that tantalising build-up which their early encounters had possessed. She had blamed it on all the stresses of their lives and work and yet recently she had found herself longing for the time when they had first married. When their intimate connection had been new and adventurous to the extent that they had often sought one another out in the middle of the day in the bright sunshine.

Married life faded passion, she had been forewarned by her sewing circle way back in heady days of her newly wed life and yet she had chosen to ignore the honesty and truth flickering in her friends voices. She had not even been able to consider the notion that the intensity between her and Sully would ever fade, it had bubbled more and more since the day they had met and yet now she wondered if it was destined to happen to even the greatest of lovers, had they lived long enough.

She shook away such sad thoughts. No, that had not happened between Sully and herself. It would never happen. She simply would not let it.

When Katie had finally settled Michaela slipped out of her nursery room and hovered at the summit of the stairs. She had meant to go straight down there and see what was bothering him, be the loving, compassionate wife and yet here she waited, her fingers curling nervously into the fabric of her skirts. Something causing her to pause.

That nice soft, sweet sensation in her belly was slowly turning sour as she listened to the movements he made in the kitchen below.

He made her uneasy in moods like this. They had happened few and far between since starting their married lives together, but that deep-seated anger she felt radiating from his soul in moods like this frightened her. He became a stranger; the gentle loved one she thought she knew everything about disappearing behind an angry mask.

So much for her dream of a lovely quiet evening with him…


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer_: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!

Starting All Over Again.

By Rianne.

_Chapter Six._

With her fingers still gripping the soft fabric of her dress she crept down the first few steps, seeing Sully cross the floor into her view as he paced. His movement causing the once romantic candle flames that stood on her decorated table to flutter. He did not see her.

His brow was deeply furrowed, his broad shoulders tense and hunched with the weight of so many things unknown to her. Step after step he paced, disappearing and emerging from the waving shadows with the equal measured footsteps of a man so lost in thought that his body worked unconsciously.

Animal, he reminded her of a wounded animal. He held his left palm cradled in his right and at first she attributed the hold to one of concentration. Then she remembered the yelp she had heard earlier. He was a moving mass of frustrated and bound tight emotions, a man she did not recognise. A man whose motions were becoming more and more irregular, his chest beginning to sway with each step as the tension well inside him began to bubble towards explosion. He was fighting hard against the waves of anger he felt stirring deep, waves which crested with helplessness at his impotence in the face of a man like Preston, for he could not prevent the way his mind played over and over with the events of the day.

Why had he stood for Preston's behaviour, his disrespect towards Michaela, his childish bully tactics and his prima donna demands? Why? He was a grown man, whatever he owed to Preston, whatever he needed to do for his family, it was becoming more and more obvious that this was not the answer. He was slowly realising that in these mounting actions and reactions he was failing them and himself and that by pandering to Preston's every demand he was sinking deeper and deeper into the vast hole he seemed to be digging for himself. The man was treating him like a slave, blackmailing him, and he was letting him do it!

Twisting his hands in frustration he winced at the dart of pain that shot up both arms.

The Doctor in Michaela registered the wince, even if the wife in her missed it. He was a wounded animal indeed. Tense and ready to strike blindly in a desperate need to protect himself. Becoming unable to distinguish between those who could give help and those who would cause harm.

In moods like this he needed an outlet. He needed to be forced into confrontation. Knew deep down he needed to open up, to talk, yet habit and previous life experiences had ingrained these ideals of withholding, of self-reliance, of self-preservation through autonomy.

He did not want to lay his problems out for others to fix. What kind of man did that? The kind of man who was a disappointment to the wife and the family who depended upon him.

Michaela chewed her lower lip as she watched him. She desperately wanted to reach out to him, to help any way she could. Yet every idea of approach she came up with seemed wrong somehow. Her mind was spiralling in circles as the tension which emanated from him made her more and more nervous by degrees and her love for him and her mounting worries tangled and entwined and prevented her from thinking as clearly as she would like. Did she pretend that nothing was wrong, as she knew he most likely would the moment that he realised she was in the room? Or did she find someway to force him into opening up and risk unleashing that torrent of anger and pain against herself?

She knew he would never strike her. But the silence was even more brutal. His moments of silence, of avoidance, had increased in recent weeks. It worried her deeply, yet she had thought with his behaviour this morning and his words of love the previous night that maybe this problem filled period was finally coming to an end. With her own protective shell so fractured by Marjorie's sudden return she did not know if she could withstand him turning away from her offer of help, or even worse, him closing off from her even more securely. Yet desperation rose and she knew she had to do something.

She was ashamed to admit to even herself, but sometimes lately she would find her thoughts dalliancing around the idea of provoking his true aggression. The way his tomahawk flew, the way he wrestled men to the ground, to see that aggression burst out of him. She had almost begun to wish that an event might befall him, an event which would encourage behaviour like that and in turn alleviate his pain in a physical way and restore the balance within.

She looked up to the dark wooden beams in the shadowy recesses above her instantly remorseful for her thoughts. Here she stood, wishing for violence to befall her beloved husband! Heavens forgive her.

Yet she wondered did he needed to brood longer before she tried to re-rope the bridges of communication between them?

Then suddenly from below a sound dragged her attention back to the stew, which had been bubbling contentedly on the stove. With an upsurge of heat the pan rattled to life on the hob, shuddering and spilling some of its overflowing contents in a sharp hiss of steam.

Immediately distracted from his dark thoughts Sully span towards the erupting pot, yet before he could reach it Michaela appeared as if from nowhere in a swirl of voluminous sky blue skirts. She swayed over to the stove, disappearing for a moment into the cloud of steam as she lifted the violent pan from its heat in one quick motion, turning to place it on the wooden stand in the centre of the table as the cloud dissipated. He saw all this on the periphery of his own anger-clouded vision. Could not bear to look directly at her as he glowered in his uneasy stance by the fireplace knocked off balance by her sudden appearance.

Yet pleased with the opportunistic distraction and making the most of it, Michaela too was careful not to make eye contact. Tending to the stew gave her a task to concentrate upon during this uncomfortable moment that was so heightened by what she had just seen and how ill prepared she was to tackle this new problem that lay before her.

Taking a deep breath of stew filled air she turned in his direction, and started to speak, yet the words came out in a sudden crash of voices. Sully was speaking too, but it took her a moment to process that knowledge and both found their words lost into the spill of one another's. What they had tried to say disappeared and both were left looking at one another in cautious silence. Both waiting for the other to speak those words again. Both fearful that they had missed something important, some entrance to venting the feelings they both held tight in their breasts.

After a moments tension Michaela broke the eye contact, ill at ease in the presence of someone who usually made her feel so comfortable and it hurt her to feel that way. Had that happened a month ago, or even this morning, laughter would have currently filled the air, not more silence.

"Here," she said, her voice noticeably tight, as she handed him a plate filled with food.

"Thank you."

His voice cracked as he spoke his cautious return, wary of the expression on her face. She did not miss the tension in his arm as he willed himself not to wince at the slight weight of the plate in his hand.

Flipping into Doctor Mode in an instant Michaela was at his side, reaching out her gentle fingers towards his obviously injured hands, a breeze of her perfume catching his senses. Yet what was female and appealing about her only seemed to remind him of Preston's words.

"Sully, you're hurt?" her voice had softened towards him.

Yet her fussing was the last thing he needed, as her hands made delicate contact with his lower arms he tore them back from her in a gesture that was almost violent. She surged back from him in shock, the hurt he saw flickering in her eyes like knives to his flesh.

She looked like she thought I might strike her. His mind whirled with that knowledge.

"I'm fine!" He cried, realising after the fact just how loud his voice had sounded in the air around them.

She was looking down at her dress; as if the modest lacing at the front of her bodice was the most interesting thing she had ever studied.

"I'm fine," he spoke again, making sure he forced his tone to be softer, he reached out to lightly brush his fingers over her shoulders but she stepped back away from him keeping her eyes averted.

"Do you want some Cider?" her voice was barely discernable, she was hiding her face behind her hair.

She turned without waiting for a response, crossed to the cabinet by the stove and poured out two glasses.

Stepping back and moving to sit in his chair, not taking his eyes off her he was suddenly struck by the absence of the children. At first he had attributed their absence to the late hour, but now as he took in the candle light, the table settings for only two, the blue gown which Michaela wore, the way her hair tumbled loose down her back just the way he liked it, he was stricken with the realisation that this had been a premeditated meal, a romantic meal, planned just for the two of them. He heard an echo of his own voice from that morning, teasing her about the bathing suit, how both had been annoyed at Marjorie's interrupting their private moment.

That painful weight in his stomach doubled at the second realisation: that there was no way he could redeem this now.


End file.
